


slow as molasses (sweeter than sugar)

by jesm



Series: falls like this (slowly, easily, brightly) [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesm/pseuds/jesm
Summary: Eddie falls in love slowly, with a cumulation of ordinary moments, small intimacies and shared experiences. Falls in love like this.
Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Shannon Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: falls like this (slowly, easily, brightly) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178318
Comments: 18
Kudos: 249





	slow as molasses (sweeter than sugar)

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a short little introspection that demanded to be written then spiraled into a 20k plus, multi-part creature that has taken over my life and my sleep for the last couple weeks. It takes place throughout seasons 2 and 3, and hopefully it’s clear where each scene falls but I’ve included more details in the end notes in case. It’s also generally cannon compliant, at least through Buck Begins and we’ll see how things go after that.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading as much as I’m enjoying writing.
> 
> TW - the second scene includes a suicide attempt and can be skipped, starts at “Bobby, I can get to him” and ends “It’s late afternoon.”

There is no revelation. No Eureka moment. No oh _this,_ you, you’re the one. 

Eddie falls in love slowly. Falls in love with a cumulation of ordinary moments, of small intimacies, of shared experiences. Like Chris’ Lego project that sits in the corner of their living room, a few pieces added one day, a few more the next, one full section completed on a rainy Saturday, the whole thing gradually taking shape over time until its final form is recognizable, even with pieces still waiting to be put in place. This is how Eddie falls in love. 

Eddie knows this isn’t how other people fall in love. It’s not how love stories are told. It’s not how his sisters and his friends went through their teenage years, bouncing constantly and excitedly from crush to crush while Eddie… _didn’t_. It’s not how his parents talk about the start of their relationship. It’s not how Shannon fell in love with him _,_ he knows.

But it is how he fell in love with her. Slowly. Such that they were engaged before he was sure of it, even if he’d said it many times. Because she’d said it and expected the same in return. Because Eddie hadn’t known how to explain and had not wanted to upset their relationship. It had been the best thing in his life, in those early years before it had all gone so horribly wrong and Eddie had learned he fell out of love slowly too. Even when he was angry and hurt, even when they were apart and not talking.

The one exception to this, in the whole of Eddie’s life, is Christopher, whom Eddie loves instantly and completely, from the moment Shannon had told him they were going to be parents. And so he had tried to be the best. He had wanted to be perfect, to be what he’d been told a father and a husband was expected to be—a provider and a protector first, around and involved unimportant as long as he provided. Until he had failed at that so spectacularly it had shattered everything else in his life—his marriage, his relationship with his parents, even the way he felt about his hometown. 

So he took Chris and started over. And he promised himself he would do what felt right to him, not what he thought he was supposed to do, not what was expected. 

He fails often. 

When Shannon comes back and he tries again, hearing Carla say Chris needs his mom, thinking it’ll be easier this time, familiar at least. Shannon has the sense this time to say no when it comes down to it. Though forgiving her for being ready to leave Chris again is a constant work in progress.

When he tells Buck he’s bi a few weeks into their friendship. They’re drinking beers and watching a movie together and the conversation somehow lands on how attractive the male lead is then turns awkward, because that’s not what straight men are supposed to talk about. Buck ducks his head, scoots a little further away from Eddie on the couch, twists his beer self-consciously in his hands, and says hesitantly, _so, um, I’m bi_. He chuckles, like it could be a joke, but his spine is stiff, like he thinks maybe this will be a _thing_ to Eddie, a wall in the friendship their building. Then, when Eddie doesn’t respond, Buck looks up, a mixture of hope and dread on his face, and he’s still clearly expecting something, so Eddie responds, _sure, me too,_ and takes a big swallow of beer.

It’s the wrong label. Eddie knows this, knows there’s probably one that fits better, but it’s _close_ and it makes Buck’s shoulders relax. He smiles at Eddie like he did in the parking lot after the incident with the grenade, so Eddie leaves it there. He’s in his thirties and he still hasn’t figured out how to explain, but he tells himself it doesn’t really matter. And they don’t talk about this moment again.

So there’s no revelation, no Eureka moment, no oh, _this,_ you, you’re the one.

Eddie falls in love with Buck slowly. Falls in love with him like this.

* * *

“Uh, hey, you need a ride?” Buck stops beside Eddie and smiles. 

“Yes.” Eddie says instantly. Normally, he’d protest to make sure he wasn’t inconveniencing his new coworker, but right now he’s on the verge of panicking and more stressed than he was a scrambling around in a partially collapsed hotel hours ago. Chris has been stuck at the school _all day_.

“I’m parked around the corner on the main street, so pretty sure I didn’t get blocked in.” Buck gestures broadly. Eddie gives the downed tree, which luckily missed hitting his truck but still effectively rendered it useless, a final glare and follows Buck.

“Thanks.” Eddie says belatedly when they reach Buck’s jeep. 

“No problem. You’re picking up your kid, right? Christopher. I’d be freaking out. You shouldn’t have to wait for them to clear the street. And after the day we’ve had. Just tell me where to go.” Buck pulls out into traffic and flashes Eddie another warm smile.

The tension in Eddie’s chest ease a little. It surprises him. He isn’t used to people going out of their way for him for no reason. Even with his family, it often feels like there are strings attached, something owed or measured against him whenever he asks for help. He and Buck still barely knew each other. 

“Where you able to get ahold of the school?” Buck asks.

“Yeah. Chris is okay. A couple teachers volunteered to stay with students whose parents couldn’t get there earlier, but…” He trails off—but it’s been hours, but it’s already after dark, but that’s _my kid_. He feels guilty and anxious at once. He fidgets on the seat and presses his boot into the jeep’s floor mat, willing the light to turn green faster. His fingers reach and clench like he could summon Chris out of the air into his arms. 

Buck just nods. It’s strangely calming and Eddie takes a deep breath, his first real one since the end of shift. It’s probably a good thing he couldn’t get to his truck. Driving, he’d have been a danger to himself and everyone else on the road. Buck follows Eddie’s directions without error while obeying all the important traffic rules. 

Still, Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt as soon as they turn into the school parking lot and has the passenger door open before the jeep’s fully stopped. Chris beams when he sees Eddie and then giggles when Eddie can’t help but scoop him up and spin him around. He feels Chris’ laughter vibrating against his chest and tickling his cheek, and he doesn’t have words for how much he loves this kid. If he’d been stuck at school all day while his parents worked, he’d have been angry and sulky, 7.1 earthquake or no. But Chris takes every hard break he’s handed and turns it into something sweet. 

He puts Chris down when he’s afraid his tired muscles might give out and drop him. Eddie thanks the teacher profusely, because despite how much he hates the school when it comes to meeting Chris’ everyday needs, they went above and beyond today. The teacher nods and smiles in understanding, but it’s still obvious Chris is the last one to get picked up and the man’s eager to get home.

Buck opens the rear passenger door for Chris as they approach. “Uh, Chris, this is my partner Buck, who’s kindly giving us a ride home. Buck, this is Chris.” Eddie introduces. They smile at each other, nearly identical awed, shy smiles. 

“Hey, Chris? Was this your first earthquake?” Buck asks on the way home, looking up to make eye contact with him in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. No earthquakes in Texas.” 

“Wow. I bet you still weren’t scared at all, right?” Chris lights up at that, brown eyes wide as he smiles back at Buck and Eddie’s a little in awe as well. 

Buck gets out of the jeep again when they reach the house. Unasked, he carries Eddie’s bag up to the front door so Eddie can more easily carry Chris, who’s drifting in half sleep after the long, unusual day. 

“Thanks. You want to come in? Have a drink? Or some food?” Eddie asks, juggling Chris and his keys to get the door open.

“Sure.” Buck says. 

It’s not the answer Eddie’s expecting. After the hard day they’ve had, he’d figured Buck would just want to go home. It gives Eddie pause, because he’s not sure what he even has in the house for grown adults to eat or drink, or if he put away the laundry and threw out yesterday’s empty pizza box.

Buck must see his hesitation because he quickly amends. “If it’s not inconvenient. Nevermind, I don't want to be in your way, and you probably want to get to bed.” He takes a step back, Eddie’s bag still in his hand. 

Eddie shifts Chris higher up on his hip and reaches out a hand to stall Buck’s retreat. “No, come on in. Just no promises on the state of the house. Or the contents of the fridge.” He smiles to show Buck it’s fine, and Buck gives him a hesitant smile in return. 

Eddie nudges the door open the rest of the way with his foot then ushers Buck in first. He did, in fact, take out the pizza box, but there’s a heap of laundry on the couch and a full hamper on the floor beside it.

“Just, uh, make yourself at home while I get Chris in bed. Then we can see what we can scrounge up for sustenance.” 

Eddie tucks Chris into bed free of only his crutches and shoes, but otherwise still dressed, as it’s not worth trying to wake him up to get into pajamas. Buck has set Eddie’s bag down by the hamper and is perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch fidgeting as Eddie comes back into the living room. He springs to his feet again when he sees Eddie.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home yourself?” Eddie can’t help but ask. 

Buck shakes his head. “Day like today, I’m too amped up still to sleep. And Maddie texted she wouldn’t be home until later so there’s no one at my—at Abby’s place.” Buck pauses. “Are _you_ sure I’m not bothering you?”

“Not at all. Come on. But remember, no promises I have anything worth having in my kitchen.” 

There’s one beer and a dozen juice boxes in the fridge. The beer isn’t even the kind Eddie usually drinks, so he suspects it’s leftover from when his cousins helped him move in. He gets out two glasses and they split it anyway, needing something to wash down butterless, low-salt microwaveable popcorn (why does he even have that), slightly stale Oreos, and the fresh strawberries Eddie hasn’t been able to stop himself from buying at least once a week since moving to LA. 

Buck heads out after Maddie texts that she’s leaving the call-center. He seems calmer, like the fidgety, adrenaline rush from earlier actually has left his system. Eddie closes the door behind him, feeling better too. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lonely since moving here and is glad to finally be making a friend.

* * *

“Bobby, I can get to him.” Buck shouts into the radio. 

Eddie’s immediate thought is, _fuck no_. Not that he doesn’t think Buck’s more than capable of or willing to climb out there, but when they first tried the kid had pulled out a six inch knife and that is not something Eddie wants to tangle with 60 feet in the air. 

“No one goes out on that ledge as long as he’s armed.” Bobby responds. 

Buck fidgets next to Eddie, but thankfully doesn’t make a move to disobey the order. 

The kid looks about fourteen, lean and freckly with a pile of blonde curls, streaked through with bright red dye. He’s pacing back and forth a few steps along a narrow, decorative ledge a couple feet below the balcony.

“I’ll climb up and come down from the other side while Eddie keeps him distracted. I can get to him, Bobby.” Buck offers, practically begs, and there’s something about that that gets under Eddie’s skin and hooks into his gut and chest.

“Buckley, just hang tight. We’re working on a Plan B.” Bobby says.

The kid’s screaming constantly—at Buck and Eddie to stay back, at the LAPD officer below trying to talk him down, at the rest of crowd on the ground, and at his phone, which keeps pinging and lighting up with notifications. 

There’s a another scream from behind Eddie and he whirls just in time to catch a middle-aged blonde woman before she runs out onto the balcony. She claws at Eddie, desperate to get past him to the kid. She’s sobbing hard enough, voice rough and broken, that it takes Eddie a while to pick out key details in what she’s screaming—help, my son, God, Chris, please.

“Diaz, Buckley, what’s happening up there?” Bobby radios.

“I think we have the kid’s mother here, Cap.” 

“Okay. On my way to you. See if she can tell us anything.” 

“Ma’am. I’m with the LAFD. We’re here to help. But I need you to calm down so you can help me help your son. His name is Chris?” Eddie says. Buck gives him a quick, sidelong look and Eddie nods that he’s fine. Sure, he’d prefer this kid who’s literally on the edge didn’t share a name with his own son, but it’s a common enough name he’s under no illusions he can save them all.

The woman nods. “Yes, Chris. God, please, you have to help him. Why is no one helping him?” She turns and screams the kid’s name again, tugging against Eddie’s hold.

“Ma’am, we’re doing everything we can to help your son, but we need him to put away that knife before we can go out there and get him. Do you know what this is about? Has anything happened recently that Chris would be upset about?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. He’s been staying with his dad. We got divorced a year ago.” She sobs and sags against him.

There’s a sort of collective gasp from below and Buck goes spring tense at Eddie’s side. Eddie reflectively tightens his grip on the mother and turns back to look at the kid.

The kid’s taken several steps along the ledge, out towards the corner of the building. He hurls his phone over the edge, the motion knocking him off balance enough he slips and starts to fall. He flails his arms, dropping the knife to catch hold of the side of the building. The mother screams again, begging and twisting in Eddie’s hands.

“Cap, knife’s out of play.” 

“Okay Buck. But go slow, we don’t want to spook him.” 

Buck steps up to the edge of the balcony, talking gently to the kid. The kid turns to face them, gives a half little nod, and starts creeping back along the ledge towards the balcony. 

“Chris, stay right there. I’m coming to you, okay? Just stay right there.” Buck says.

There’s a beat—a glimpse of the kid’s tear streaked face, Buck’s fingers curling over the balcony railing, the mother’s hitching sob—then a flash of blonde and red the kid’s gone.

Bobby catches his eye and waves him over as Eddie finishes repacking their equipment. The coroner’s van pulls up alongside the ladder truck and Eddie unconsciously gives it a wide birth on his way over to Bobby. 

“That was a hard call. How are you doing?” Bobby asks.

“I’m fine, Cap.”

Bobby studies his face then nods. “Can you keep an eye on Buck the rest of shift? He’s lost a suicide before and he took it hard. I’ll feel better knowing someone’s watching his back.”

“Of course.” Eddie says. 

He doesn’t need Bobby to ask. Keeping an eye on Buck is automatic at this point—not just because Buck might do something reckless, as the team jokes, or because he’s had a bad call, like now, but because that’s how they work. He keeps an eye on Buck and Buck keeps an eye on him.

It’s late afternoon when they get back to the station. Eddie calls Shannon the second he climbs out of the truck.

“Eddie?” She answers, confused. He can hear Chris’ voice in the background. “I thought you were working until later.” 

“I am. We’re between calls for the moment. Look, I know it’s your night with him, but can you put Chris on for a minute.” 

There a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Buck climbs out of the truck behind Eddie and brushes their shoulders together as he passes.

“Okay, Eddie. I’ll put him on.”

“Hi Dad.” Chris’ voice is bright and happy, a little too loud to be comfortable against Eddie’s ear, but he could go deaf from it and he wouldn’t care right now.

“Hey Chris.” Eddie keeps his tone light too; he got plenty of practice doing that in Afghanistan. 

“Why’d you call?”

“Oh, nothing big. I just wanted to hear about you day. How was school?” 

Eddie settles onto the couch as Chris talks about his day, adding the occasional remark or question to show he’s listening. The station’s calm and quiet as they all try to give each other more space than usual and Eddie watches Buck putzing around the kitchen.

Chris cuts off his story about the new class hamster. “Mom’s calling. I have to go.” 

“Yeah, okay, bud, you better do what your mom says. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.” 

“Love you.” Chris responds quickly and the call clicks off.

After a few minutes, Buck joins Eddie on the couch with two cups of coffee. He hands him one and sits, almost but not quite in Eddie’s space. 

“So how’s Chris?” Buck asks.

“Still loving the new school, it seems. He’s fine. Happy, healthy kid.” Eddie feels the weight and stress of it suddenly, now that the call is done and the adrenaline fading and he’s given his mind a minute to catch up. He sags into the couch.

“And how are you?” Buck asks.

“Fine.” Eddie says with a dismissive shake of his head. 

He doesn’t want to talk about how he’s feeling, has never liked talking about feelings. Eddie’s always been more of a tactile person, drawing comfort from hugs and touches rather than words. 

“You?" Eddie asks. It’s a convenient deflection and, though he doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t mind listening to Buck if it helps him. "Bobby said you’ve lost a suicide before. Thought this one might be hard.” 

Buck nods and leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees, shoulders curled inward. “My first.” He says, and _my first death, the first person I couldn’t save_ goes unspoken but clear. “Amusement park. The rollercoaster got stuck and he was hanging. I just needed him to reach up, it was a few inches, but he couldn’t. He let go.” 

_Well, shit._ Eddie shifts over instinctively, until they’re side-by-side, hip to knee. Buck glances at him and then sits up, leaning his shoulder into Eddie’s. 

They’ll never know if the kid today let go or slipped, or why he was up on the edge in the first place. Eddie can’t guarantee his Chris will never feel like that’s his only option, as he gets older and life gets messier. He can only do his best, but it’s good to have friends around who live with that too.

* * *

There’s a chill breeze off the ocean and Shannon huddles into her cardigan, but Chris and Denny don’t seem to mind, happily digging a moat around their lopsided sand castle.

“Ready to go?” Shannon asks.

“Nonsense, you can’t go yet.” Karen casts a shadow across their blanket then sits on Eddie’s other side. “This is an official 118 gathering and you two have been keeping to yourselves far to long.” She smiles at Shannon. “Plus, we were beginning to think you were invisible. Like Buck’s out-of-town girlfriend. It’s nice to finally know you’re real.”

Shannon smiles back, even if it’s a bit uncertain. She hadn’t wanted to come to the picnic, but Chris had begged. “I’d think Chris is enough proof of that.”

“Ali’s real too. I pulled her through a fourteenth story window to save her life.” Eddie says.

“Is that how Buck tells the story?” Karen says with a teasing smile. “Anyway, you have to stay long enough for us to get to know you. Your 118 family, after all.” She looks from Eddie to Shannon with a knowing expression, like she can also feel the awkward tension that settled between, or more likely, Hen talks as much as the rest of the firehouse.

“And you’re the official greeting party?” Eddie quips to cover.

“In fact I am. I’ve been around the longest. God, that makes me feel old.”

“For me, it’s the eight-year old kid who keeps getting taller that makes me feel old.”

Karen studdies him and Shannon. “I’m pretty sure you two where babies yourself when Chris was born.”

“Not far off.” Shannon says. “Denny seems like a nice kid. He’s really sweet to Chirs.”

Karen beams. “Yeah, they get on great. Denny loves welcoming new kids in to the team as long as he doesn’t have to share any of his video games.”

So they talk about their kids for awhile, and Eddie appreciates how hard Karen is trying to make Shannon feel welcome. When he catches her shivering again, Eddie gets up to fetch his sweatshirt from the car and swings by the picnic table for more drinks and snacks on his way back. When he turns to rejoin Shannon he finds Athena has taken his place, while Harry, Denny and Chris are exuberantly destroying the sand castle.

“Hey,” Buck says, joining Eddie by the cooler and knocking their shoulders together in greeting. “So, that can either be great or awkward, right?” He adds with a nod towards the trio. “Think they’re talking about you?”

“Probably not. I’m not that interesting, and Karen works on mars missions.” Eddie says. “Ali couldn’t come?”

“She had to work. And she said something about how we do these picnics often enough she can catch the next one.”

“Sounds like things are going well, then, if she’s planning on sticking around for the next picnic?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s kinda new still, and with her work travel, we’re taking things pretty slow, just some fun. My phone game’s pretty good, though.” Buck gives Eddie a cocky smile. Eddie snorts. “Things must be going okay with Shannon, too?”

“Since I’m not sneaking around behind my kid’s back with his mother anymore, you mean.” 

The cocky smirk slides off Buck’s face and his look turns serious. “I mean, since she’s here at the 118 picnic with you and Chris, things must be okay. Though _you_ need to relax.” Buck nudges him with his elbow. 

“Chris begged her to come. We haven’t really gotten on with each other’s friends in awhile.” Eddie says. They’d lost touch with their common highschool friends after Chris was born, and Shannon had never gotten along with his army buddies nor him with her work friends, so they were used to keeping their marriage separate from their friendships.

“Well, Athena can be terrifying but she’s awesome and so is Karen. I’m sure Shannon will love them.” 

Honestly, Eddie’s more preoccupied with how well they’ll like Shannon. He’s trying for a clean start with her, but he has years of defending her against his parents on his mind and he doesn’t want to go through that with his team at the 118. 

“I’m sure. And maybe the four of us can do dinner next time Ali’s in town?”

Buck smirks. “Did you really just propose a double date?”

“We can bring Chris, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“I wasn’t saying no to the double date, just surprised you, of all people, suggested it. But yeah, we should. And include Chris. It’ll be fun.” 

Eddie’s beginning to regret the suggestion; it had just popped out in the moment, but it’d be good for Shannon and Buck to get to know each other. 

“Yeah. Fun. Now I need to get this sweater to Shannon before she freezes and make sure all the embarrassing baby stories being told are just about the kids.”

“Aw, Shannon knows all your embarrassing baby stories, doesn’t she?” 

“I’ll see you later.” Eddie says. 

Buck laughs and says goodbye, picking up a conversation with Hen and Chim as Eddie heads back over to Karen, Athena, Shannon and the kids.

* * *

“What happens to Chris if you get killed?” Adriana asks. 

Eddie flinches. “What kind of question is that?”

“I’m not trying to be Mom and Dad, but you can’t tell me it’s not a dangerous job and Shannon just died, Eddie. If something happens to you, we’re all in El Paso.”

“Adriana.” Eddie warns, too tired to have this argument again.

“It wouldn’t have to be right now.” Adriana rolls her eyes, like that one concession means she isn’t making the same argument as their parents. “You said your probationary year is almost done. And after you could work anywhere, right?”

Eddie runs a hand through his hair and digs his thumb into his temple. He doesn’t know how to explain to Adriana that it’s not just about finishing his probationary year, but that he actually feels like he’s at home in LA and he can’t remember the last time El Paso felt that way. It’s in the way Abuela and Peppa ply him with food and affectionately scold him in Spanish. It’s the way Bobby teaches him more in a single day about being the type of person he wants to be than his own father ever did. It’s the easy camaraderie with Hen and Chim, and Carla’s gentle teasing. 

And it’s Buck. The way that every time Eddie stumbles, Buck is there with a hand, or an idea, or a smile, convincing Eddie he can keep going. Eddie doesn’t want to go back to a life without that. 

“Transferring to a new department would mean starting over, Addi. I like my team here. Chris likes his school and his friends. We have a life here.”

Adriana gives a sigh that reminds him of their mother and Eddie mentally braces for her next angle of attack. He’s rescued, however, by Abuela calling his name. He turns to her and then follows her nod to where Buck’s jeep is pulling up alongside the curb. 

It’s at least half a block away, with all the closer curb space already full. Eddie sets his beer on the porch railing and jogs down the front steps. He gets to the jeep before Buck’s finished grabbing a tray of cookies from the passenger side—the popcorn ones that are Chris’ current favorite. 

Buck sets the cookies back on the seat so he can give Eddie a crushing hug. Eddie drops his head onto Buck’s shoulder, noting he smells like the soap from the showers at the station. 

“You didn’t have to come straight from work. You didn’t have to come at all.” 

“Uh, yes, I did.” Buck rubs Eddie’s back and doesn’t move or pull away until Eddie does.

Eddie carries the cookies, because it helps to have something in his hands, and leads Buck through the side door to the yard rather than back through the house where Adriana and Abuela are still. 

“Hey Chris, look who’s here. And he brought you those weird cookies you like.” 

Chris, who’s been expectedly subdued since the accident, shouts when he sees Buck and squirms, trying to get Eddie’s mom to help him up. Eddie can see the tantrum brewing when she doesn’t and instead tries to get him to sit still, glancing up at Eddie with a disapproving frown. Buck lengthens his stride and crouches next to Chris’ chair. Eddie’s mom leans back, startled, and Chris wraps his arms around Buck’s neck in an chaotic hug that knocks their foreheads together. The tension defuses from the scene before it has a chance ignite.

Eddie drops into the empty chair beside Chris and reaches to drag another one over for Buck, but Sophia stands with a smile. “Here, handsome, you can have mine.” She taps Buck’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Thanks.” Buck gives her his most bashful smile and takes the offered seat.

“Sophia, Mom, this is Buck. Buck, my sister Sophia and my mother Helena. Buck’s my partner at the 118.” 

“Nice to meet you Buck, but I’m going to take one of these cookies and go get some more food.” Sophia whispers something to their mom as she walks off. 

There’s a weird beat of silence then his mom asks politely, “How long have you been a firefighter, Buck?”

“Uh, two years, Mrs. Diaz. I started at the 118 the year before Eddie.” 

“Buck’s the best firefighter.” Chris chimes in, which makes Buck wince and Eddie laugh.

“Hey, thanks kid.” Eddie says. 

Chris looks unrepentant. “You’re good too, Dad, but Buck does all the coolest stuff.” 

“Only because your dad’s the best partner and always has my back, buddy. I can’t do any of the cool stuff alone.” 

“How was the shift today, Buck?” Eddie asks. He can see the tiredness on his face and in the slope of his shoulders, but there’s none of the excess adrenaline that he takes home after a big call or the pent-up stress after a bad one.

“Fine. We spent most of the day chasing false alarms.” Buck says. 

Eddie nods, understanding the grueling exhaustion of that type of day, a rollercoaster of anticipation and relief without the satisfaction of every actually doing anything. 

“False alarms?” His mom asks.

“Because of the package bombings.” Eddie clarifies. 

There’s a flash of alarm across his mom’s face. Eddie recognized the expression for the way he’d react if someone told him Chris was hurt, but it needles him anyway.

“I didn’t know you responded to things like that.” She says.

Buck looks between Eddie and his mom. “Well, we stay back at a safe distance. We’re really just to support and provide medical assistance in case something happens.” Buck explains. He doesn’t add that ‘a safe distance’ is fairly relative when talking about amature package bombs, or that he and Eddie became partners extracting a live grenade from a man’s thigh. 

His mom’s alarm fades into something Eddie can’t name as she looks between the two of them and Chris. 

“Anyway, there’s a good chance the whole thing’s over. “ Buck adds. 

Eddie doubts it. The bombings have the feel of something still building up, but Buck has effectively soothed over another potential explosion, and the conversation drifts into safer territory.

A rap of knuckles on the door gets Eddie’s attention and he looks up from where he’s sitting with his back against Chris’ bed. Buck’s leaning just inside the half-open door. When Eddie nods, he steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“Eddie, are you hiding in Chris’ room?” 

“My parents are staying in mine.” 

“Ah, they’re staying here.” Buck settles next to him on the floor, close enough he’s a warm, solid presence against Eddie’s side.

“I’m glad they came. I am. And Chris missed them. I…it’s just been a long day.” 

Buck cuts him off, placing a hand above his knee and squeezing. “Eddie, you don’t have to defend yourself to me. Not about why you’re hiding in Chris’ room. Not about anything. Ever.” 

Eddie feels like a puppet whose strings have been cut and he sags against Buck. Buck makes a small, surprised noise and shifts, laying his arm across Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie lets his head fall back against Buck’s arm. It’s easier, like this, to let go of the tension his been holding since the funeral. Easier to breathe, when he slides his hand between Buck’s back and the bed and can feel the slow rise and fall of Buck’s own breaths against his palm. 

“I’m not hiding.” Eddie says. 

“Okay,” Buck says but his expression is uncertain. 

“I came in to grab Chris a sweater and I just sat down for a minute…but I’ll head back out in a second…I’m not…” Words keep falling from his lips, even as he stops processing them, a litany of excuses for why he’s sitting on the floor in his son’s room with his whole family in his yard.

“Eddie. Eddie stop.”

Eddie’s jaw snaps shut with a click and Buck turns into him, his arm tightening around Eddie’s shoulders. He tilts his head until Eddie meets his eyes.

“It’s okay to need a break. It’s okay to need a minute. Or an hour. Or a year. Shannon died. It’s okay to need things for yourself.” 

Eddie swallows and looks away again. He’s not even sure how he feels. Grief is there. Shock and numbness, too. And a simmering, formless anger he doesn’t know how to approach.

“Everyone’s so…I hatethe way she left, but she came out here to look after her dying mother and they all make it sound like she was relaxing on the beach the whole time instead of sitting in the hospital. Our marriage was a mess, but that wasn’t her fault. She was a good mother when Chris didn’t even recognize me, and she was a good person. I—” Eddie’s voice catches.

“Want to tell me about her?” Buck says. 

Eddie practically gives himself whiplash, turning to look at Buck, the question is so unexpected. 

Buck gives a shy smile and a small shrug. “I never really got to know her. And she’s part of Chris…and you. So you should tell me about her, if you want?”

Eddie huffs out a breath and considers the question. He thinks Buck and Shannon would have gotten along, if they’d met before. 

“She was a daredevil. We used to go hiking and climbing and there wasn’t anything she was afraid to try. Used to scare the shit out of me, when we first started dating. I thought she’d get hurt and her mom would hate me. Sophia called her a tomboy, but she wasn’t really. She loved to get dressed up and go out, loved dancing, but she loved having adventurers too.”

It’s bittersweet, to remember this version of Shannon—living, breathing, smiling, planning for a life so much bigger than she got—but it picks at the knot in Eddie’s chest, slowly unraveling it.

“We got married right after we found out she was pregnant with Chris. It wasn’t…that wasn’t why _._ We were planning on it before, marriage and kids, but later, and then everything was all happening so fast. I was terrified but Shannon was a rock. Said everything would be fine, that we’d be great. We could take him hiking, teach him to climb when he got older, visit her mom in California to learn how to surf together.”

But Eddie had been so desperate to provide for them he had enlisted without talking to Shannon about it, seeing no other way. That had been the first fracture, tiny and unremarkable at first.

“She could be the most patient person. Even when we were teenagers. And, God, I hope Chris inherits that. I was sulky and broody.” He can feel Buck’s sharp chuckle where he’s leaning against Buck’s side and smiles. “Shocking, I know. But Shannon was—I…I don’t know why she put up with me then. Never figured out what she saw in me.” 

And Eddie’s warmer mood turns stormy, because eventually Shannon’s patience had run out. He knows that had been his fault, but he’s as angry at her for giving up on him as he is at himself for giving her a reason to. 

“Eds, do you need me to explain that to you?” Buck says, soft and kind in a way that makes Eddie angry at him too. “You’re my best friend. You’re—”

“Don’t.” 

Eddie starts to pull away, but Buck doesn’t let him go, his hand heavy on Eddie’s shoulder. There’s a moment of thick silence and Eddie stares at a snag in Chris’ carpet to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes.

“Okay. I…I wont. I’m just going to say _one_ thing. Or I’m going to call Bobby and make you listen to him say it.”

It’s a strange sort of threat, one that leaves him feeling cared for and pissed off at the same time. “Fine.”

“Good. And I…I want you to look at me. Eddie?” 

Eddie ignores that request, petulantly staring at the snag in the carpet. He smooths it down with his thumb, feeling the uneven weave catch on his nail.

“Eddie.” 

Buck makes a frustrated noise and actually reaches over to grab Eddie’s chin and force his head up. Despite the pushy insistence of the gesture, his fingers are gentle as they uncurl to rest along the side of Eddie’s neck. 

“This is not your fault.” 

The anger drains out of Eddie in a rush. It never stood a chance against the warmth of Buck’s fingers or the look in his eyes. The thing is, Eddie’s been holding himself together with it. Using the painful strength of his anger as a counterbalance to the suffocating fear of what he’s going to do next, of how he and Chris are going to move on. Without it, he shatters. 

The first wracking sob catches Buck off guard and his hand drops from Eddie’s neck. He says something Eddie doesn’t hear, maybe Eddie’s name, maybe a startled curse. There’s a dark flash of panic across his face before he pulls Eddie closer, arms wrapping around him, and Eddie lets himself break apart.

They stay like that—for several minutes or an hour, Eddie has no idea—and then Buck suddenly scrambles to his feet. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He promises with a quick kiss to Eddie’s forehead. 

Eddie waits, slowly pulling himself back together in the quiet of Chris’ bedroom. He considers leaving, knowing his absence will not go unnoticed forever, and he has worked himself up to standing when Buck comes back in, this time with Chris at his side. Eddie reaches out for his son, automatic and needy. It’s an awkward, uncoordinate hug, but they manage without knocking each other over.

“Your Abuela is running interference and it’s close enough to Chris’ bedtime.” Buck whispers for just Eddie to hear, then raises his voice to address them both. “We did a round of goodnights outside already. So what do you boys want to do? Game? Movie? Story?” 

Buck’s tone is warm and light, like Eddie hadn’t been sobbing into his shoulder fifteen minuets ago, but Chris doesn’t respond. 

“What do you think, Chris?” Eddie prompts, giving him a squeeze and somehow matching his tone to Buck’s.

Chris chews on his lip and eventually answers. “Can we read another chapter?” 

Eddie hesitates. They’ve been reading The Graveyard Book, which is perhaps not the best follow-up to a funeral, but Chris likes the story and they’re somewhere in the middle, where it’s generally just a young boy having fantastic adventures. 

“Sure we can.” 

Buck fetches the book while Eddie and Chris kick off their shoes and climb onto his bed. Buck sits on Chris’s too small, uncomfortable beanbag chair, which Eddie regrets buying for how often he’s had to sit on it himself, but Buck pulls it around to where he can prop his elbow on the bed and make funny, dramatic faces at Chris while Eddie reads. 

In the middle of reading aloud about a boy kidnapped by ghouls, with Chris and Buck keeping up steady side commentary, Eddie has the impulse to go back outside and shout at his his parents.

_See, this is what I was trying to explain. We have a home here. We don’t need you to swoop in and take us back to El Paso. We’re safe and cared for._

* * *

Eddie knows, from the second he steps through the doors of the PT wing, that the session went well. Buck’s drenched in sweat, curls dripping across his forehead, and grinning like a golden retriever, such that Eddie can’t help but grin in response and his own sour mood lifts. 

Buck catches sight of him and bounds over. Clearly his leg isn’t bothering him. Eddie grabs his bag off his shoulder anyway, fingers skimming the sweat soaked collar of his t-shirt. It’s not even that Buck needs anyone to pick him up anymore. He’s been off the crutches for months. But it helps on the bad days for him to have someone around, at least they all hope it helps. Thursdays are Eddie’s day, when he gets off early enough and Chris has the after-school program.

“You mind if we run an errand on the way home? It’ll be quick.” Eddie says. He doesn’t ask Buck how the session went or why he’s in such high spirits. He wants to see how long Buck can wind himself up, vibrating out of his own skin, before he blurts it out.

“No problem.” Buck says, much more brightly then any comment about running errands should ever illicit. Eddie has to force himself not to laugh to keep up his charade of normalcy, but his smile’s unavoidable.

Buck makes it, surprisingly, all the way until they’re in the truck. “My doctor signed off so I scheduled my recertification test with the department. Next week.”

Eddie’s head whips around and the truck swerves slightly before he gets his eyes back on road. “That’s great.” He says because it’s what Buck wants to hear. 

And yes, it’s been months so Eddie understands how desperate Buck is to get back to work. Eddie misses having him there, too, in the field watching his back, at the station through the long days and after the tough calls, but Buck was crushed by a Goddamn ladder truck and, mostly, Eddie just wants him to be alright.

Buck fidgets on the seat, probably catching on to Eddie’s shock and hesitation, so Eddie forces a smile. 

“Seriously. We all miss you at work.” At least he has driving as an excuse not to look at him as he says it so Buck wont be able read the unsaid parts on his face—the _too soon,_ the _stop pushing so hard,_ the _what the fuck are you thinking._

“Yeah?” Buck says, and now he sounds uncertain.

“Yes.” Eddies assures him and he feels like a bit of a jerk for ruining Buck’s elation. “Hey, so they’re doing a sort of field trip with Chris’ after shool thing today where they’ll feed him and I don’t need to pick him up until seven-thirty. Want to do dinner?”

“This you’re way of trying to convince me to cook for you so you don’t have to eat frozen lasagna?”

“Hey, no. We’ll go out. My treat.” 

“Okay,” Buck draws the word out slowly, giving Eddie an odd, indecipherable look that makes him feel awkward and off balance. He drums his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

“It’ll be fun. And you have something to celebrate. I’ll even spring for dessert.” 

Buck snorts. “Wow, dessert and everything. You really know how to sweep a guy off his feet.”

“No one should be sweeping you off anything. Unless you have a doctor’s note for that too.” 

The odd look flashes across Buck’s face again. He grins and ducks his head before looking back up at Eddie. “I do actually. But I’m classy, so you’re going to have to spring for more than dessert. Like, at least three courses and fancy cocktail.”

“Classy, huh?”

“Yup. Buck 3.0’s classy.”

The atmosphere in the car is light and relaxed. Eddie decides errands are overrated, or at least can be done tomorrow before work. They end up at the beach, a whole-in-the-wall taco place with a tiny outdoor patio. At the bakery across the street, they get cookies for dessert and extra for Eddie to take home to Chris. After, they walk along the waterfront, because they have time to kill before Eddie has to pick up Chris, Buck’s leg is healing well and it’s a beautiful LA evening. 

Eddie tries to remember the last time he spent hours like this. Between Chris, work and his family, he’s far from lonely, but for the same reasons, he doesn’t have much time to just relax and take in the city, either. And it’s not actually a date, Eddie’s far from ready for dating, but it’s a nice change of pace. 

* * *

When Eddie looks over Chris’s head to find Buck again, it’s just in time to watch him collapse against Hen, Chim and Bobby. A high, desperate sound catches in Eddie’s throat and he jerks, but he’s on one knee and tangled up with Chris so he can’t lunge towards Buck no matter how much his body wants to. At least not without letting go of Chris, and he’s physically incapable of that, too. 

Chris twists in his arms and Eddie instinctively holds him tighter. It ridiculous. They’re at a hospital, on dry land, and no-one, nothing, is trying to snatch Chris away from him now, but something almost had. Chris had been hurt and scared and in danger all day, and Eddie hadn’t even known. 

“Dad,” Chris squirms again, more determinedly this time. “Dad. We gotta find Buck. He saved me but then I got lost and we gotta—”

“Shhh, Chris, Buck’s okay.” Eddie kisses his hair. He waits another minute, until Hen and Chim have Buck on a stretcher, then hoists Chris in his arms and turns so they can both see. “Chris, see, Buck’s right here. He needs some rest, but he’s okay.” 

God, he hopes he’s not lying to his kid. Buck looks awful. There’s no color in his skin underneath the mud and blood, and his eyelids keep fluttering closed even as he tries to stare at Eddie and Chris. Hen is running a saline drip and she looks worried but not scared. Eddie takes that as a good sign. 

“Hey, Eddie, want me to check him out?” Chim comes over. He’s using his paramedic voice, steady and confident, and it knocks Eddie off balance for a moment because Chim’s never spoken to him like that, but a second later it feels like a lifeline, giving him something to grab onto just as he realizes he’s drowning. 

“Yes. Please.” 

Chim’s eyes go a little wider at the way Eddie’s voice comes out. He puts one hand on Chris’s back and the other on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Great. Let’s go inside. We’ll get you all fixed up and then brave kids like you get a sucker after your check-up. What do you think Chris?” 

“Can I have a green one?” Chris asks.

“I think I can do that.” Chim says. Eddie knows he keeps suckers in the ambulance, both because it helps when they have kids on calls and because Chim has a sweet-tooth himself.

They end up in the same room as Buck. It’s unconscious but intentional in a way, because Eddie passes by a handful of empty chairs before settling in with Buck. Eddie watches as Chim checks Chris for injuries, going through it in his own head, what he would do and look for, even though he’s not in the right headspace to do it himself. Chim’s gentle and thorough and Chris is miraculously unharmed. Chim squeezes Eddie’s shoulder on his way back out to get Chris his promised green sucker, and Eddie’s body takes that as its queue to sag bonelessly against the wall. 

Hen and Bobby glance over from where they’re gathered around Buck. 

“Alright,” Bobby says, sounding a hundred years older than he had twenty minutes ago. “Eddie you’re off for the rest of shift, obviously, but can you stay with Buck until Maddie gets here? I think she’s on her way.” 

Eddie nods, not trusting his own voice. 

“I’m going to go check-in with the incident commander. Hen, meet us back at the truck when you’re done.” 

Eddie gets the same shoulder squeeze from Bobby as he passes, and Eddie feels so greatful for these people that, for a moment, it’s as overwhelming as the fear and desperation he’s felt since spotting Buck outside. 

Eddie bundles Chris into the chair with the oversized red sweater someone had given him and a donated blanket. Chris gives a tired, mumbled _love you_ when Eddie kisses his forehead then he joins Hen at Buck’s side.

“He should be fine,” Hen says before Eddie has to ask. “Exhaustion, blood loss, mild shock. A nurse should be coming by soon with a transfusion. Other than that, he really just needs rest.”

Eddie nods and Hen falls quiet, giving him a moment to study Buck in peace. He already looks significantly better than he had, with his injuries cleaned and professionally bandaged, even if he’s still paler than Eddie likes. He’s completely out now, either from a sedative or exhaustion, and it’s the stillest Eddie’s ever seen him, which makes something cold and slick pool in Eddie’s gut. 

Chim returns with Chris’ sucker, tucking it into the pocket of the sweater for him to find when he wakes up, and the nurse shows up just after with blood for the transfusion. There’s a brief flurry of activity, and then Eddie’s alone.

He touches the back of Buck’s hand. It feels like coming out of a fire and getting the first gulp of fresh air. Beyond his medic’s training and Hen’s words, he wants tangible evidence Bucky’s alright, something he can feel under his hands. 

He ghosts his fingers up over the back of Buck’s wrist, skims across the bandage on his forearm, along his bicep and shoulder, and follows the line of his collarbone to his throat, where Buck’s pulse beats slow and steady. Eddie rests his hand there, thumb brushing the stubbled line of his jaw. 

Buck’s eyes blink open. “Eds?” His voice is barely a whisper and as rough as sandpaper. “Chris?” Buck tries to get his elbows under him to sit up so Eddie slides his hand to his chest to stop him.

“Jesus you two. Chris is asleep just over there and he’s fine. Go back to sleep.” Buck’s eyes are already closed before Eddie finishes and he doesn’t open them again.

Eddie leans down and presses a kiss to Buck’s forehead, at his hairline under the dirty, sweaty blonde curls that stick to his skin. He kisses the arch of each eyebrow, catching the briny tang of seawater, and feather light, kisses each eyelid. Then he stops himself. He takes a shaky breath before pulling back. 

Chris is asleep in the only chair in the room, so Eddie props his hip on the edge of Buck’s hospital bed. He reaches over to curl his fingers around Buck’s and watches Chris sleep. He’s standing like that when Maddie comes in.

She rushes across the room and throws her arms around Eddie’s neck. He’s surprised enough by the hug, he barely get’s his free arm up to hug her back before she’s stepping away. She glances down to where Eddie’s holding Buck’s hand, over at Chris, then finally back to her brother. She wipes at the tears on her cheeks with her sleeve and circles around to the other side of the bed so she can smooth her hand over his hair.

“I’m so glad he found you both.” Maddie says. “He was so worried that he’d lost Chris. He—”

“He saved Chris.” Eddie blurts. Maddie’s eyes jerk up to meet his, and there are fresh tears gathering in the corners. “He saved Chris. That’s what Chris said.” 

“He thought you’d hate him. For loosing Chris.”

“Never.” Eddie hisses, vehemently.

Maddie’s expression shifts, becomes harder. Eddie’s very aware of the fact that he’s still holding Buck’s hand, and of how his thumb has been unconsciously tracing circles over Buck’s skin. They stare at each other. Eddie thinks he should probably say something, but he’s at a loss for what, exactly. _Never_ really covers it—I could never hate Buck. 

“Good. I’m glad.” Maddie says finally. Her expression softens again and it makes her look small and tired. 

Eddie knows he should go. He needs to get Chris home to his own bed, and give Maddie a place to rest and watch over her brother. Knowing it and getting his body to respond are two different things, though. He doesn’t want to let go of Buck’s hand, the warmth of it in his feels like safety, a bright light in a storm. 

“I should go. Get Chris home to bed.” Eddie mumbles, trying to motivate himself or break free of the pull to stay. He extracts his hand from Buck’s. Maddie smiles over at him as he gathers up Chris. 

“I’ll text you when he wakes up.” She says.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Eddie is not handling things well. Shannon’s accident. Chris’s nightmares. Chris almost dying in a tsunami. Buck almost dying three times in less than a year. Buck stuck on light duty instead of in the field with Eddie where he belongs (and being insufferable about it). His parents on his case again about moving back to El Paso. It piles up around him like bombs waiting to go off.

He’s self-aware enough that he realizes that he’s not handling it all, he just doesn’t know how to do better. 

Eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket but he doesn’t bother looking at it, just sets the dirty plate back into the sink and dries his hands. Buck’s closing the door behind him when Eddie reaches the hall. Eddie steps towards him for a hug and then pauses.

There’s a weird energy about Buck. He’s slumped in on himself and staring at the floor somewhere around Eddie’s feet. Eddie walks slowly towards him and Buck’s head comes up slowly as he does, like he’s following the track of Eddie’s steps. There’s a frown etched deeply into the normally bright lines of his face. 

“You’re early. Bobby didn’t make desert?” Eddie says, shooting for normal, for something for Buck to grab onto, but Buck flinches and that stops Eddie in his tracks again. 

Buck’s fiddling with Eddie’s key, digging the teeth into the flesh of this thumb. Eddie takes it out of his hand and smooths his thumb along Buck’s in its place. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah…uh…I…have you—”

“Buck!” Chris shouts. 

Buck’s expression brightens instantly. Eddie turns to look at his son, PJs on, damp hair hanging long over his forehead and the back of his neck, one crutch with his other hand holding the edge of his door. 

“I picked out a game and it’s all set up.” Chris says happily to Buck then turns to Eddie to add, “And I brushed my teeth, Dad.” He gives Eddie a toothy smile as proof. 

“Great job, Chris. We’ll be right there, but can you give Buck and me a minute?”

“No. I’m fine.” Buck says quickly. “Show me which game you picked out, Chris.” 

Buck steps away to join Chris at the couch, leaving Eddie standing in the hall, holding his spare key and feeling like someone’s dropped another potential bomb at his feet.

“Remember, one round only,” Eddie calls after them automatically and sets the key on the hall table. 

The evening is weird. They paly a game, read with Chris, tuck him in, which is all normal, the rhythm and beats familiar ones Eddie could describe in his sleep, but he and Chris are exhausted from too many interrupted nights and Buck’s distracted, unusually quiet, so the tones off. 

They’re cleaning up and Eddie’s trying to work out how steer the conversation back to _what’s going on with you?_ without being too aggressive about it when he hears a clink and Buck hisses in pain.

Eddie spins, wincing at the loud clang as the plate he was washing drops back into the sink. There’s a glass on the counter with a large chip on the rim and Buck’s staring a a line of blood along the base of his thumb. 

Eddie feels his medic’s training click on, taking over and pushing emotion to the side, but his worry for Buck pushes back. He’s gruff in waving off Buck’s apology while he turns Buck’s hand to gently inspect the cut for any remaining pieces of glass. It’s shallow and narrow and not even an inch long. On himself, Eddie might not even bother with a band-aid but he’s overly cautious with Buck on blood thinners. 

Eddie makes Buck sit, still apologizing and protesting, and grabs the first-aid kit from on-top of the fridge. It’s smaller than the ones he keeps in the bathroom, his truck, and the earthquake kit in the garage, but still adequate for the task at hand. (And, yes, Buck teased him mercilessly when he discovered Eddie has four first-aid kits; he doesn’t know yet about the one Eddie keeps with his old camping gear.)

“Eddie, chill out.” Buck chuckles while Eddie bandages the cut, and he nudges Eddie’s shin with his foot to underline the statement. “It’s practically a paper cut. You know I’ve had worse.” 

_Shut-up. You almost died three times._

“You’re on blood thinners, Buck. You have to be more careful. _Jesus_ , you want to go back to work. We can’t even make it through a normal evening without you bleeding all over my counter.” 

Buck jerks his hand away, making the last butterfly bandage Eddie’s putting on stick at an odd angle. Buck fixes it himself and stands up. 

“I’m _fine_ Eddie. I am careful.” Buck’s voice is high and heated. 

Eddie thinks he’s triggered something, whatever it was that had Buck stressed and anxious when he arrived. He reaches up to catch Buck’s waist, which usually works to remind him to take a moment to breathe, but Buck twists away from his hand.

“I’m not Chris. I’m not your son. I’m not Bobby’s.” Buck continues, backing around the table towards the door. 

“Bobby?” Eddie asks. He’s on his feet now too, tracing Buck’s path through the kitchen to the hall.

“I don’t need you—either of you—treating me like I can’t take care of myself. I know what I’m doing. I know when I’m ready.” Buck pulls the front door open with too much force, but still catches it before it slams into the wall.

“Buck, wait.” 

Either the words or what’s in Eddie’s voice, the tight desperate edge to it, cut through Buck’s rant and he pauses with one foot on either side of the threshold, one hand on the doorknob and his other on the doorframe. Eddie’s eyes are drawn to the short line of bright white bandages where they glow next to the dark wood of the door. 

“Look, I don’t know what—just come back inside and we can talk, okay?”

There’s a moment where Eddie thinks Buck will, his weight shifts forward and his fingers twitch on the doorknob, then his express walls off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. G’night Eddie.” Buck steps back and closes the door in Eddie’s face before he can respond.

Two days later, Eddie’s wrung out. Chris is having nightmares about Shannon. Buck has let half a dozen texts messages go unanswered. And when Eddie walks into the station Chim greets him with, “Bobby wants to talk to you before shift.” Chim’s tone is wary as he adds, “he’s in his office.”

In his office is not a good sign with Bobby. Eddie’s never known anyone who avoids making use of a private office more than Bobby does, so Eddie’s expecting the news to be somewhere around he’s fired or someone’s died, even before Bobby asks him to close the door.

“Have you talked to Buck?”

Eddie panics. It’s instant, his heart jumping into his throat and his breath catching. He starts to pull his phone out of his pocket even though his brain knows that the six text messages will still be unanswered. He checked when he pulled into the parking lot. Maybe if he calls, Buck will answer. Or maybe it’ll be Maddie or some stranger—police officer, doctor—to tell him something horrible has happened. But no, if something had happened to Buck, someone would have called him immediately, right? It wouldn’t be Bobby in his office before shift. 

“He’s fine.” Bobby says. 

Eddie’s spinning thoughts settle a little, enough to tell him that cursing at his boss for letting him believe, even for a few seconds, that Buck was hurt is not a reasonable reaction, and he stops himself before anything slips out. 

“Why? What’s going on, Bobby?”

“Buck’s fine,” Bobby repeats. “I just need to know when you last talked to him.” 

“Night before last. He came over after dinner at your place.” Eddie says and Bobby frowns.

“What did you talk about that night?” Bobby asks. Eddie runs his hand through his hair, trying to piece together what’s happening.

“Nothing. I don’t know. We played a video game with Chris, and then talked about…nothing important.” He swallows, remembering Buck’s wild rant, the way he practically fled Eddie’s house and the look on his face when he’d slammed the door. Eddie’s spare house key, Buck’s copy, is still sitting on the hall table.

“And you haven’t talked to him since? Calls? Texts? Any communication?” Bobby presses.

“Bobby…”

“I’ll explain. Just let’s get through this first.” Bobby says. 

“Whatever this is.” Eddie mumbles under his breath and get’s a disapproving look form Bobby in response. “No. I’ve texted a few times but he hasn’t responded. He…he was upset when he left. With you, I think. But he didn’t tell me what about.” 

Bobby nods and taps his finger on the imposing stack of papers on his desk. 

“Okay, thanks Eddie. I’ll brief the team at the start of shift. But you should know now, you can’t call Buck, text, anything.”

The panic’s rising again, constricting Eddie’s throat and lungs, and with it a simmering, angry frustration. Anger at what, he’s not sure—himself probably, the world maybe, because it’s one thing after another and he can’t seem to get any of it under control no matter how hard he tries.

“Bobby?”

“Buck’s suing the department for wrongful termination and the city’s lawyers are making it very clear that we are to have no contact with Buck under any circumstances until this is resolved.” 

Eddie fixates on the way Bobby’s finger continues tapping the top of the papers. None of this makes sense. 

“They’ll be an adjudication hearing soon, probably our day off, and hopefully this gets resolved quickly. In the meantime, no contact. Clear? No calls, texts, messages. Nothing. Eddie?”

Eddie drags his gaze back up to Bobby’s face. Though he doesn’t remember doing it, at some point he pulled his phone out of his pocket and it’s sitting in his hand in blatant disregard of Bobby’s instructions. Eddie thumbs the screen off. 

“Understood. That all?” He understands his orders. He has no clue about anything else. 

Bobby sighs but nods, accepting Eddie’s response and letting him go. He turns his phone back on as soon as he’s out of Bobby’s office and brings up his messages.

He texts Maddie. No one said he couldn’t. 

_Just tell me he’s alright?_

It takes an agonizingly long eight minutes for her to respond. 

_Yes, he’s fine. I’m at his place now. I’ll let you know if anything’s wrong._

That’s…good—it makes sense for Maddie to be with him—but unsatisfying. Eddie wants to talk to Buck himself. Wants to shout at him. _How is going to help? What were you thinking?_ Wants to apologize. _I’m sorry for what I did and said; it wasn’t because I don’t believe in you._ Wants to go back two days and stop Buck before he leaves the house. Wants to hug him and not let him go.

But Eddie rarely gets what he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Scene timeline:  
> 1.coda to 2.3 when Buck gives Eddie a ride to pick up Chris after the earthquake  
> 2.not an episode, but sometime between 2.10 and 2.13  
> 3.also not an episode, just needed something somewhat lighter in tone, sometime around 2.15  
> 4.during 2.18’s Diaz family picnic  
> 5.between seasons 2 and 3  
> 6.at the end of 3.3 picking up at the VA hospital before the happy ending scenes  
> 7.during & after 3.4
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments appreciated. Up next, Buck's POV


End file.
